Up in Arms or Embracing My Inner Grandma

As Ethan hopped out of the car on his way to kindergarten,  I ethusiastically waved goodbye.   Just then, something caught the corner of my eye.

"Did you see that, Ellerie?"  I asked my almost three year old in the backseat.

"What Mommy?"  she replied.

"Oh nothing, "I said.

I knew that I had seen something, but as my eyes scanned the front passenger seat of my van,  I didn't detect anything out of the ordinary.  Not one to worry, I shrugged it off, and I went on my way.

But, as I pulled away from the curb to drive back home,  I spied one of my girlfriends pushing a stroller on the sidewalk.  I rolled down the window, shouted a "Hey there!", and once again, waved enthusiastically.

And . . . I saw it again.  

There it was!  A flash of tan.  When I waved.  And with a sinking feeling, I instantly knew what it was.

It was me.

It was my arm.

Flapping . . .as I waved.

                                                                               Image from www.realself.com

After I recovered from the horror of discovering that I now have my grandma's arms,  I booked myself a session at the gym with a trainer.

That's right.

I'm not succumbing to my grandma arms without a fight.

(Cue Rocky music.)

Tricep dips, here I come!